Punish the Sinners
by Nathander
Summary: As Alucard and Seras get closer to their prey, an unexpected ally ends up joining with them. Sorry for the delay, will hopefully begin to write chapters more frequently animebased, eventual manga tiein.
1. Default Chapter

Punish the Sinners  
  
By Nathander  
  
Chapter 1  
  
With one's principles one wants to bully one's habits, or justify, honor, scold, or conceal them: two men with the same principles probably aim with them at something basically different. -Friedrich Nietzsche  
  
Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing sat at her desk, smoking furiously merely to keep from gnashing her teeth together at a constant rate. She had hoped that Incognito's death who, at the time, had seemed like a somewhat major player in the production of the FREAKS would have somewhat ebbed the flow of them. Instead, the exact opposite had seemingly happened as more and more of them seemed to appear. Not only that, but the monsters had begun to get bolder and bolder. They had begun, it seemed, to wage a personally and constant war not with the Protestant Church, but against it as well, slaughtering priests not to feed but to seemingly send a message to the public. It was as if they were publicly trying to proclaim "We exist! See us! Fear us! Run, before we come for you too!" The only thing at all that somewhat relieved her irritation and anger at the event was the loss of Catholic priests in Scotland and Ireland.  
  
Placing her cigar on her ashtray, she took the stack of reports up again to look through. The brutality the FREAKS showed to their victims was common enough: dismemberment, impaling, slow torture. But one thing didn't fit, that being the loss of ALL the priests' blood in their bodies. While that didn't seem unnaturally to hear to begin with, it immediately became worth a second look once it was discovered that the blood HADN'T been removed through the usual form of draining. Instead, it seemed as if the blood had been forced out of the pieces of the bodies and taken away, only God knowing what the true purpose was.  
  
Putting the papers back down, she folded her hands over her face, blocking out light to try to help think. "The only possible reason would be for a demon summoning." She stated lowly to herself. "That's the ONLY possible thing they could be gathering it for. The only question is what demon they're planning to offer it to."  
  
"Or what demons." Alucard's voice wafted into the room as he silently entered, his entrance having gone unnoticed if not for him having spoken up. "There is, of course, the chance they're going to be trying to summon more than one this time. After all, only one didn't avail them much last time."  
  
Integra sniffled a chuckle. "As usual, I'd take it you'd relish the chance to fight them."  
  
Alucard's lips pulled back in a wolf-like smile. "Of course." He answered, the all-to-uncommon snobbery in it, just lurking beyond becoming unbearable. "Though it may not be in our best interest to wait for them to do so. The blood of priests is a good ingredient for summoning demons from the lower levels of Hell, but it isn't the only innocent blood they need if that's what they plan to do."  
  
This time, Integra did make eye contact with him, though it was a vicious glare. "You make it sound as if I'm deliberately trying to not find them. I wanted them found, and dead, by the death of the first priest. I don't plan to tolerate ANY more murders in such a fashion, or of other innocents you're alluding too."  
  
"Not tolerating and stopping something are too completely different things, though you probably know that." His voice showed how humorous he obviously found the situation. "Though, I must admit, I am ashamed to say that these ones have been throwing me for quite a loop and avoiding me. By now, the quicker this gets done, the better."  
  
"If you find it so irritating, why have you decided to come in her to dally with me instead of going out and during your job?" While she did her best to keep anger in her voice, she did it while fighting to surpress a smile. Being able to get a dominating attitude towards Alucard was something she enjoyed the most from her position.  
  
"I'm waiting for Police Girl to hurry up and finish."  
  
"My, my. I thought you always considered her worthless and a waste of your time. Yet you seem so interested in her now. Why ever does that so happen to be?"  
  
While he kept his smile, she could see an obvious look of irritation begin to form in his eyes when he responded. "Watching a person who I would consider a child in my clan grow can be very rewarding. While she isn't as useful as she COULD be, she's getting more so."  
  
"So much so that you can't go hunting without her?"  
  
"No, but going without her would drastically harm her capabilities. After all, training can only provide so much; it's on the field that we really learn."  
  
Taking her cigar back up, she finished her conversation by simply stating, "Very well. Once she's done, take her out to 'help' you, if that's what you consider it by now. Walter has a possible lead, though not much of one; tail him tonight and get as much information as you can. Whether or not you kill him is up to you, but milk as much out of him as possible." Taking a deep puff and looking down at her desk, she told him, "Dismissed."  
  
His smile widening, partially out of anticipation but more so (at least she thought) due to the fact that he had irritated her. "As you will Master." He replied, the air beginning to crackle with energy as a red pentagram and pentacle formed behind him, "As always, your humble servant shall deliver what is necessary."  
  
Leaning back in her chair, she exhaled smoke through her mouth while simultaneously inhaling it through her nostrils, hoping the aroma would work some soothing effect on her.  
  
  
  
Alexander Anderson sat in a plain wooden chair in the field in front of the Ferdinand Lukes, the orphanage he most commonly helped work at. Several children sat on the grass in a semi-circle in front of the chair, staring at the priest with wide eyes. It did his heart good to see children enthralled by the word of God, especially due to his own fondness for children. Reading from the Bible that sat on his lap, he read slowly, "The third time he said to him, 'Simon son of John, do you love me?' Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, 'Do you love me?' He said, 'Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.' Jesus said, 'Feed my sheep. I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you were you do not want to go.' Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, 'Follow me!'" Closing the Bible slowly in a show of respect, he asked the children, "What have you learned from this story?"  
  
One of the children, a young girl of 7 with blond hair pulled back in pigtails, answered, "That Jesus is very nice."  
  
While a childish answer, it was still a good (and true) answer. In response to it, he inquired, "How is Jesus nice, child?"  
  
She replied, "Because he forgave Peter even though he said he didn't know him three times." Then, in childish innocence, she proclaimed, "I wouldn't forgive someone if they lied about knowing me three times. I'd punch them in the teeth."  
  
Anderson smiled happily at the girls' response. "I believe that's what I'd do too. Does anyone else have any other answers?"  
  
From behind him, a female voice bearing a heavy German accent stated, "That to live our lives correctly, we must give to the Lord what is his, namely our live. Sacrifice in his name is the way all should die."  
  
Lowering his eyes, Anderson told the children, "Head on inside. The sisters should have snacks ready."  
  
The word 'snacks' was enough to motivate the children to move as quickly as possible to the doors of the orphanage. One of them, a boy, turned to Anderson as he was leaving, "Aren't you coming, Father?"  
  
"I will in a minute, but there are some things I have to do first." He replied, his voice having become dull from the zeal that was obvious in it when he was reading from the Bible. That seemed to satisfy the child, as he quickly headed for the snacks with his friend. Getting up from his chair, he turned to face the woman who dressed herself up in the garb of a priest. Giving a slight nod of his head, he gave a dull response of acknowledgement of her presence. "Heinkel."  
  
She nodded back at him, her sunglasses slipping slightly. "It's been awhile, Anderson."  
  
"It has." He responded. Then, almost without thinking, he said, "That was inappropriate Heinkel."  
  
"Was it now?" She retorted, her voice beginning to quickly show impatience. "Despite the fact it is what you believe as well? Despite the fact that it is what you know is true?"  
  
"Aye, I know it's true. But that doesn't mean we need to revel that to the children just yet. Let them grow first before that lesson is put upon them."  
  
"So you're saying keep them blind from the light and word of God? Allow the devil a chance to tempt them into sin and deprivation? Is that what you plan to do, become a servant of the fallen bringer of light Lucifer?"  
  
His hands clenching into fists of rage, he replied, "Of course not. I merely believe it wasn't a necessity to make them aware of it yet. They're innocents; they have the right to bear innocent dreams."  
  
Heinkel scoffed. "Innocents and the ideas of innocence are the most easily corrupted, and thus can be one of the greatest tools wielded by the devil. You bask yourself in ignorance if you think you can keep them innocent AND pure, as it is a mistake to claim those traits are one in the same. It would be best if you told them the truth of the world, of the arch-demon's lies, and freed them so they may REMAIN pure in God's service."  
  
Holding back a snarl, he decided at that moment he despised the woman. He, at least, still had a deal of his humanity, though he was less human than she was. Yet she seemed to have evolved herself into a killing machine, seeing only the ideal of retribution as the means through which God did his holy work. True, he himself enjoyed hunting down and dealing judgment to the damned and the corrupters, but there was more to God, for God was love, and who better to understand that then children? "Surely you didn't come here to merely discuss such rationalable subjects as how to raise children and the 'true' meaning of innocence and purity. Why did Section XIII send you?"  
  
"Father Maxwell has a mission for you." She stated bluntly. "He has merely sent me to fetch you and tell you to report to the Vatican immediately."  
  
Anderson sniffed, smirking down at her. It seemed that Heinkel was now merely running messages for Enrico; perhaps the Vatican had finally realized how loose a cannon she was after her most recent exploits, especially the hostage situation in Palestine. A waste of a good servant of the Lord, at least for hunting demons and pagans, but he wasn't feeling especially sympathetic at the moment. "That's it? That's all there is? May I ask as to why Enrico sent you to get me?"  
  
She grimaced, obviously not very enthusiastic by him calling his superior by his first name and not even adding the moniker of 'Father' after it. "Due to the attacks recently, especially the situation of the current FREAK affair, the Vatican is choosing to hold off any travels by priests or nuns, except for our division of course."  
  
"I still fail to see the logic behind him sending you. His usual messenger, Father Hellinger, was, and still is, a member of Section XIII and is more than capable of—"  
  
"Father Hellinger is dead, Anderson."  
  
For a moment, his jaw merely stood open in shock. He soon regained control and, his face twisted in indignation and fury, loudly demanded, "How....no, WHO killed him? Was it in the similar pattern of the previous murders?"  
  
"If we knew exactly who killed him, we would have taken care of him. Yet, we do not. Father Hellinger knew the risks he was taking; we shouldn't take sorrow in his death, but understand it is merely God's will."  
  
"Aye." Anderson replied solemnly, still a bit shaken. Father Hellinger had been a mentor of his, a teacher, and to a degree, an adopted father. Battle-rage filling him, he faced Heinkel straight in the eyes, "When do we leave?"  
  
She could sense him, feel him. The darkness was not her master. No, the darkness was a tool, it was what she thrived on.  
  
The darkness was within were she hunted.  
  
She could feel him, feel it come towards her. The object's speed was amazing, lashing out at her back like a snake. Fast though it was, she was quicker still. She jumped into the air, flipping through it and her feet landing upon the wall behind her. She stuck there, the force of her body, of her kinship to the darkness, giving her the strength to stay there, to prepare to lash out.  
  
But her opponent was just as quick. He too jumped to the same wall, right under her, and lashed out again, his speed almost imbearable at such a close range. Yet she was able to move away. He struck her, true, but it only tore her clothing, yet the skin. Landing only a few feet away, she charged her attacker who had yet to follow her. Grabbing him by his arm, she flung him to the ground, his body making a loud, cracking sound. The body shuddered a bit, and then disappeared.  
  
She hesitated, frightened. She knew her opponent was quick, but not that quick. She had to find him, and quickly.  
  
But it was too late. She felt her opponent's weapon circling around her, enclosing her and threatening to tear into her body. Two of the strands found their way to her neck and, quickly, went gently over it, cutting off the front of her collar.  
  
"I'm afraid to announce that, at this time, you would be dead, Miss Victoria." Announced Walter from behind her, the darkness fading from the training room as the lights came back on. The room was completely empty, merely a large, white room devoid of any features. Seras decided she liked the room better with the lights off.  
  
Sighing, she brushed herself off as Walter's circle of string, an odd yet effective blessed weapon, loosened and returned to him. "It's a waste of time." She stated sordidly, slightly depressed. "I don't have any chance of meeting master's expectations if I can't even match you." Quickly, sorry for having said it, she stated, "No offense ment, Walter."  
  
Walter chuckled lightly. "None taken at all, Miss Victoria. I don't expect to be considered a very considerable opponent compared to Alucard or you."  
  
"But you are better than me." She replied, eyes to the ground half in embarrassment, half in shame. "I really am like master thought of me when he permitted me into his clan."  
  
He put a hand on her shoulder. He knew all too well Seras' disappointment and frustration with her seeming inability to please her master. He knew a man once who was like that to him; no matter what he did, nothing seemed to satisfy. He became a hero in serving his country in World War II, he became a top-ranking agent in an organization that accepted only the most specialized in their field, and yet he was always seen as a disappointment. Seras called her man master; he could his man father. "It will be all right, Miss Victoria. I am sure that Alucard has the utmost trust and respect in you."  
  
Seras smirked. "Please, I'm not so naïve as to know when I'm a burden."  
  
"There are a ways to improve yourself and not be one, if you actually wanted to try instead of cry about your limitations." Alucard's voice echoed through the room. The vampire, the most powerful in England (and, more than likely, the entire world), stood leaning against the doorframe of the training room.  
  
"M......master....." she stumbled with her words and did a short, small bow to show respect to him. Walter gave a small, barely visible shake of the head. He didn't understand why, but it seemed the more powerful she got, the more subservient she became towards her master. He supposed it was due to the fact that she herself did not seem to notice she had become so strong, and unfortunately, Alucard did not let her know she was, at least not visibly to her. Yet he could occasionally see the pride in Alucard's eyes when he watched his pupil grow and learn, and become, in truth, stronger.  
  
And she did not know it yet, but she WAS stronger than him. During their training fight, he had made a decision: he would not hold back. Instead, judging from their previous sparring sessions and the missions she went on with Alucard, he believed her to be ready. When he brought the two wires to her neck, he pulled with enough force to have cut off the head of a FREAK and immediately deal what was practically a killing blow. Instead, the wire had only cut off the front of her collar. She didn't notice it yet, but her strength was not just combat; her true strength lied within premonition and intuition, being able to judge her opponent and, subconsciously, making movements, even to the slightest millimeter, to avoid being attacked or hurt. In a true fight, she would have triumphed over him, and while he would not say it out loud yet, she would more than likely surpass Alucard, her master, in the use of mental capabilities for combat. And that was saying a great deal.  
  
"Lift your head up, police girl." Alucard nearly spat the words in disgust as he moved forward. Seras shuddered a bit, whether from fear or trying to surpress tears, Walter couldn't tell. Yet, looking into Alucard's eyes, he could see a small flicker of pride residing there, the only sign of the great abundance of it that lied within him in secret. He had somehow watched and known everything that had transpired, including the fact that Walter was going for the kill.  
  
"I'm sorry master." She said lowly, trying to hide her pain from her master's words, which in hear ears, seemed to be the most condemning things ever spoken.  
  
Alucard ignored her completely. "Integra said you have a lead for us." He inquired of Walter.  
  
Walter nodded and took out a small piece of paper from his breastpocket, casually placing it in Alucard's hand. "Gregor Yushli, age 72. An immigrant from Russia, his family moved sought sanctuary in Britain to avoid Stalin's persecution during World War II. He's a free-lance journalist............and a student of the occult, taking part in dark rituals and having ties to demon-worshipping cults. Five months ago, he disappeared.......and came back a week ago. His landlady says that he looks much healthier than he did before he left, though perhaps a bit more pale. He has become incredibly erratic since he left also. He demands people be kept out of his apartment and refuses to allow people to even clean it. He only seems to come out at night, and the landlady says that there's always a 'peculiar smell' around him."  
  
Alucard smirked and gave a small sniff, obviously showing what he considered to be his own superiority to the creature. "Obviously a relatively young vampire. I doubt I'D have much trouble with him," having put a good deal of emphasis on mentioning himself, he flickered his eyes towards Seras, "but perhaps he will be enough of a formidable challenge to our police girl."  
  
Sighing, she nodded, agreeing with her master. She couldn't take, afraid she'd show more weakness than necessary. Alucard turned back to Walter. "I take it the piece of paper has his address?" Walter nodded. "If you don't find him there, he supposedly haunts several seedy little bars in the immediate area. Just your regular, stereotypical bum villain."  
  
Smiling, Alucard turned his back and prepared to leave the room, merely saying "Come along, police girl. We hunt tonight."  
  
Seras followed quickly, nearly stepping on his heels.  
  
"UNACCEPTABLE!" Anderson shouted out in fury, both hands curled into fists which he slammed down upon Maxwell's desk. "Completely and utterly unacceptable!"  
  
Father Enrico Maxwell, head of the Iscariot Division, merely sat placidly at Anderson's show of outrage. Taking a cigar into his mouth, he casually lit it and began to savor it. "You seem to believe I don't agree with you, but be assured that I do." Leaning back slightly in his chair, he exhaled casually, smoke coming out in gentle wisps. "Yet desperate times call for desperate measures, and we must see this through together, even if they be enemies. We must triumph over this at all costs." Closing his eyes, he recited, "Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. "  
  
"But why them?" Anderson spat, irritated with this chain of events. "Why not send other Division members with me? Surely, three who are pure and righteous have a better chance of toppling the wicked then one who is righteous and two who are unholy."  
  
Sighing, Father Maxwell found his words to try to explain. "How should I put this? Other agent members are not found of the idea of working for you, each with a different reason. The newer and younger members, such as Yumiko, look up to you and revere you as a hero. That being the case, they'd humble themselves MUCH more than necessary in your presence. Meanwhile, some of the older members either have too much confidence in you working alone, as if having pride in their child, or despise you for being so highly regarded."  
  
He easily knew whom Maxwell was referring too. "Jealousy has no place in the brotherhood and family of the Lord."  
  
"No, it does not, but human means cannot stop human desires and emotions. That being the case, this mission is MUCH too sensitive and dangerous to have you go off on it alone, especially since we don't know the capabilities of these enemies. Our best chance is, for the moment, to align ourselves with the agents of Hellsing, specifically their top agents."  
  
His hands closed upon the edges of the desk, as if preparing to rip the wood off it. "I repeat, this is unacceptable! You know as well as I know that these kinds of actions are unacceptable. By doing this, do we not risk bringing damnation by the angels of the Lord upon ourselves?"  
  
Maxwell had had enough. His eyes became like steel, cold and unyielding and uncaring to the world. "If we wish to discuss what is and is not acceptable, let us talk of your most recent escapades, shall we? I think the Pope would like to know of those, don't you?"  
  
Anderson froze in place, his breath even almost stopping. In a meek voice, truly a once in a lifetime event, he asked, "You know?"  
  
Smirking, Enrico snuffed out his cigar. "Of course I know. It would be folly for me to not watch over my flock, would it not? I can understand your reasoning for the things you have done, so you're truly blessed I don't report you. But let me say this: during this mission, I'd suggest you stay within the borders of England. Otherwise, you may find yourself a target of several opponents, and not the undead."  
  
Loosening up, his eyes to the ground, Anderson stated, "Be thou prepared, and prepare for thyself, thou, and all thy company that are assembled unto thee, and be thou a guard unto them. "  
  
Smiling a little wider, he asked, "Does that mean you accept?"  
  
"Aye." Anderson responded, eyes still plastered to the ground. "May the work of the Lord be done, and may I be his instrument of righteousness."  
  
The room was dark and cool, the way he liked it. His black leather shoes clacking on the stone ground of the cavern, he stood at attention before the darkness, darkness so great even his eyes couldn't pierce it.  
  
He was a tall, thin man of Asian origin. He cut his black hair to the shoulder blade, as well as keeping his thin, slanted face clean shaved. He wore formal clothing, a white shirt under a black button down, and fine black pants to punctuate the point. His hands were always clad in thin leather gloves. His eyes were a perplexing, steel-tinted gray.  
  
From the darkness came the voice, a voice full of command and demanding of respect and subjugation. "How far are we in the production, Aboshi?"  
  
His voice was cool and calm, ringing through the cavern like a bell. "The experiments have continued to go directly on time, as well as the collection. We only need the blood of a few more priests; in a day or two, we will be able to move on to the collection of the blood of the other necessary innocents."  
  
"And you're chosen?" asked another voice, this one female.  
  
"Are coming along. The Russian quickly and happily allowed his transformation. The others will be here soon."  
  
"And what of the traitors?" Yet another new voice responded from the darkness.  
  
"They shall be dealt with in time. I believe we can kill the younger one fairly easily. The other, however..............I'm afraid his defeat will be impossible to bring around until the summoning is completed. Incognito made a poor choice, picking such a low-ranking demon as Set to imbue himself with. Luckily, I shall not make the same mistake. Their defeat, and our victory, are imminent."  
  
"Make it so." Several voices, including the previous three, rang out. He waited several minutes to see if the silence was permanent. When he was certain he was, he closed his eyes and concentrated.  
  
His back began to hunch, his body quivering with the power flowing through him. Though it was a stage he only just recently reached in his lifetime, it was quickly mastered.  
  
Soon enough, the man known as Aboshi had seemingly disappeared. In his steed was a large, white-furred wolf, its fangs glistening with saliva. It ran out of the cavern and into the night, seeking the creatures of the woodlands to fulfill it's insatiable appetite.  
  
He would wait until tomorrow night to hunt for more preferable delicacies.  
  
REFERENCES:  
  
- John 21:17-19 - Ecclesiastes 4:12 - Ezekiel 38:7 


	2. Deadlands

Punish the Sinners:

Chapter Two-Deadlands:

The streets of London were dim, the only light being cast by the moon and the lampposts, and the night carried a brisk wind with it. If she had the choice, Seras could've staid out there all night, basking in the glow of the moon and the feel of the wind, listening to the night itself beckon her. As it stood now, she could only enjoy it as much as she could while walking at a quick place, trailing behind her master.

After a year, there were things about Alucard that still confounded and confused her. She knew her master could teleport, which would've made it easier to get to the apartment complex where their target awaited. There were only two possibly reasons she could see why Alucard decided not to: 1) he himself wanted to enjoy the night and 2) there was the possibility he could only teleport himself, and while he did not need her in combat, she could tell he was eager for her to continue to grow in her powers. She had gotten stronger over the last year, but she could tell he was still displeased with the slow rate at which she was growing.

Then something came to her mind, and she snapped her head up quickly to look at Alucard. "Master?" she began timidly.

"What, police girl?" he responded, though there was an edge to his voice that was different tonight then it usually was. Perhaps the feeling of the night even tugged at the emotions of a vampire such as himself when fully exposed to it?

"Why can't the people see us?"

Alucard lifted an eyebrow in puzzlement, a slight smile crossing his lips as he stopped and turned around to face her, Seras only barely stopping from walking into Alucard due to the unexpected movement. "And why do you believe they can't see us?"

"Well," she started, running a hand through her hair, "I'm wearing the uniform I was issued with Hellsing, which at least looks somewhat like a military uniform, which you would think would turn some heads. And you," this was going to be the tricky part to phrase, "your form of dress is…..well, _peculiar_, at the very least."

"So you believe we're invisible, then?"

"I don't see how we can't be and not attract SOME form of attention."

Alucard's smile widened slightly, and no matter how many times she saw him smile, Seras still felt uncomfortable when he did. "We're not invisible, per se. They merely fail to see us for what they are."

"Again, why is that? Are you clouding their minds so that they can't tell how out of place we are, as if making it so we appear normal to them?"

"I could do that, if I so desired." Alucard mused, "But that is not the case in this instance. Some of the romanticists among us would say that the darkness of the night and the light of the moon itself cloaks us as its children, making it so that no human would ever have the sense that there was something wrong about us. I say that's idiocy and romantic garbage."

"Then what do you think it is, master?" Though she wouldn't say it out loud, she had to admit she liked the idea of them being protected by nature itself, though she knew not to tempt Alucard's disdain.

Alucard turned back around and motioned for her to start walking again, this time beside him. "Allow me to tell you a little story on our way, police girl." He stated.

When he began to speak this time, though, his voice sounded as if it was far away despite how close she was to him, as if he was remembering while he talked. "Centuries ago, man was in tune with both the natural world and supernatural world, acknowledging the existence of both. In those times, vampires such as us and other supernatural beings had to actively hide, for man didn't just believe in us, but KNEW we existed. Vampire slayers, witch hunters, and exorcists were the knights who hunted at night, looking for the perceived evil they knew existed out in the world."

"But in the 1700s, man began to look away. They began to believe that, logically speaking, such creatures could not exist since man's 'knowledge' is restricted only to the material, and thus natural world, and much of what is supernatural could only be hypothesis. In the 1800s, what was still viewed as hypothesis changed to legend, being recorded in books and stories, not within grimoires or manuals dealing with their eradication, as had been done in earlier centuries. They were now fiction, if man believed they had even existed at all."

"And now, in this century, as in the 1900s leading to it, we are no longer legend, but myth; tales that were once believed but can now not even be conceived as having any truth or substance within them." He turned to her, smirking as he finished, "They cannot see us, police girl, because they refuse to see it. They feel no discomfort because, no matter how out of place we look, there can't be anything really wrong with us; we're just other humans. They refuse to believe that what had been branded myth and legend is, or had ever been, really. They blind themselves, making themselves weak and, thus, not knowing the do it, increasing our survival by presenting themselves as such easy bait. The FREAKS scam would have never worked in centuries past, not just because the technology was unavailable, but because people would immediately know and acknowledge what was happening and start a hunt for them." He shook his head slightly in amazement and disgust, "If anything is clouding their minds, it is they themselves."

The two walked in silence the rest of the way to the apartment complex.

The thug hit the pavement hard, his head issuing a hard crack and sending him into a dizzy unconsciousness, releasing his grip on his switchblade as it skated across the alley. Matthew cursed silently to himself; there had been five of them to begin with , and now there was only himself and Will. Unconsciously, he stroked the pistol hidden in his leather jacket, hoping things wouldn't have to get bad enough that he had to use it.

For a moment, there was just complete silence between himself, Will, and their intended victim. For the life of him, he couldn't gather HOW the bastard was able to take the five of them on. He looked fairly well cut, but he had to be middle aged, late thirties maybe at the very least, and they were five fit, sixteen to seventeen year old boys. No matter how strong he was, he shouldn't have been able to take on five of them; that shit just didn't happen. Maybe in movies, but real life?

Will charged the intended victim desperately, hoping he could at least catch him off guard. Just as quickly as he had charged him, though, he was taken down, the man's fist slamming into his chest, the force pushing him off his feet as the man also struck out with his knee, catching him in the groin before letting him fall into a helpless mass on the ground.

That was when the prey-turned-predator turned his attention on Matt, and Matt gave serious thought to pulling out the pistol, his hand already on the butt. "This isn't fucking right." Matt thought, "I mean, this isn't fucking REAL. Not only is he just one man, he's a priest, for chrissake."

Despite the heavy trench coat the man wore over his clothes, it was easy to make out the Catholic priest garb underneath, especially with the oversized crucifix around his neck. That was partially why they chose him as the target; theoretically, one wouldn't expect a priest to be extraordinarily strong. Now, though, when truly confronted with him, there was a sense of fear that he couldn't shake just by looking at him.

The priest sneered at him. "You've cost me a good deal of time, boy." His voice bore a heavy Irish accent, and the tone of anger made his words slightly harder to understand then it usually would have been, "It's going to be hell trying to just find them by sense, now. I'd suggest you move aside. Now."

"Up yours!" Matt cried out, bringing the pistol out and pointing it at the priest. "You take one step, one movement, and I'll blow your damn brains out!"

The priest merely stared at him for a moment before his sneer turned to a slight smirk, quivering with repressed laughter. "Shoot me in the head?" he said, a few chortles escaping as he did, "Blow my brains out? While, why don't you then? I'll even stand still for you; I assure you, a still target is much easier to hit then a moving one."

"The hell's wrong with you? Are you some sort of dip shit movie hero or something? Those are the only kinds of people who make those kinds of statements?"

"Won't shoot, then?" his smirk widened as he crouched slightly, like a tiger about to pounce, "Little good to have a gun then, isn't it?"

Matt's senses could barely perceive the movements the priest made, but the next moment he was face to face with him, and the gun was cleanly severed in two from the butt. It didn't take a genius to see how the priest had done it, as he was holding what was easily one of the most bizarre swords he had ever seen. If anything, it looked more like a bayonet. "Jesus…." He whispered softly.

"Lord's name!" And with that, the priest brought the hilt of the bayonet into his chest, taking the wind out of him, and swiftly brought it around to strike him in the back of his head, easily toppling him to the ground.

Matt turned around to lay on his back, but physically that was all he could do. He was as good as dead if the priest decided to finish him off.

Thankfully for him, Anderson seemed to have little to no interest in doing such. He had sheathed his weapon and, looking back at the boy, let out a deep sigh. "I hope this has been a lesson for you." He admonished, " I'd remember this incident the next time you decided to rob a man of God, let alone anyone else."

"You're not going to kill me?"

He shook his head. "No. No reason. You still have a chance to change your life, and that I must give to you, for the mercy of the Lord would demand it. _Let him that stole steal no more, but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth. _Remember those words."

"S…sure. Wh..wha…whatever you say man…SIR!" he stuttered out, hoping not to offend the priest.

But Anderson wasn't listening. Closing his eyes, he muttered a short prayer to be heard only between himself and the Lord, to sharpen his senses to find those he had been trailing. Following Alucard without too openly risking detection had been difficult enough, but now to catch up to him he would have to throw subtlety to the wind. Still, his prayer was answered; he could feel them, and in an instant he was gone.

The next thing Matt saw was the priest being replaced with a few sheets of paper, old and yellowed and written in the script of an old Bible, as they fluttered to the ground at where he had been standing. "I should report this to the police….." he thought and laughed to himself before he fainted, slipping into a welcome unconsciousness.

"They're waiting for us, aren't they?" Seras asked quietly.

Alucard nodded, the barest acknowledgment of her presence or observation. "And tell me, what else do you feel about them?"

"They're dangerous?"

"Perhaps. They obviously intend to harm us, but whether they are a real threat remains to be seen. Dig deeper."

She closed her eyes, slipping deeply into the powers of observation gifted to vampires, things she still struggled at times to fully use. She could still see the two of them, but not with her physical eyes. She now looked upon them with her mind's eye.

To the casual observer, the two people in the empty lot of the apartment seemed inconspicuous enough; one was a teen, maybe fifteen or sixteen, playing basketball by himself, practicing getting slam dunks, something he was unnervingly accurate and skilled at. The other one was only a bit older, early twenties at the most, sitting on the hood of a car and reading a book. Natural actions for natural and ordinary people.

But there were a few things out of whack, and Seras' experience as an officer, along with the abilities given to her upon her change, allowed her to notice it was set up. For one, the man wasn't reading the book, or at least not thoroughly. His eyes constantly peered over the top of the book, as if looking for someone. Occasionally he would look towards the teen, and when he did this the boy would miss his slam dunk. Purposely; if it wasn't for the fact that the boy ONLY did it when the man looked at him, Seras may have chalked it up to coincidence, but it seemed too unlikely. Not only that, but the boy constantly looked over his shoulder, as a player would to check to see if anyone was almost on top of him. Since no one else was playing, the reason for doing so was moot, unless the boy had a very active imagination, which Seras doubted. The glint in his eyes she could see didn't have much intelligence behind them. She and Alucard weren't far away from them either; this time, her master had decided to cloak himself and her so that few would be able to possibly have any chance of seeing them, and the poor light that was provided by the lamps wouldn't have helped much anyway.

That is, it wouldn't have helped if they had been normal. "They're…unnatural…." Seras stated, slowly, thinking through how to phrase what she felt. "It's odd….they feel like the FREAKS, but different in some ways…..as if they were only recently born….its as if the sense of who they are is weak…..yet they feel like their more dangerous then the FREAKS, if only just a little……they're a lot like…."

"You and I?" Alucard finished for her with a smirk.

Her eyes snapped open as she quickly turned to look her master in the face, to make sure he wasn't toying with her. "You can't possibly be serious." Her voice was a mixture of shock and willing disbelief.

"Your own senses won't lie to you now as they could when you were a human, police girl." He stated. "Their vampires. Only very recently turned to their current state, but true vampires none the less."

A million questions filled Seras' head and swam therein, trying to find someway to get out of the river and into the stream that was her voice so they could be known. "Yes….but…I thought……" she shook her head, "The target, Gregor whatever, is a man. I thought only a female could turn a man into a vampire."

"Correct." Alucard started, his hand curling into a fist and shaking. Not from anger, but from anticipation. "And a female vampire there is. Several of them. It's not just them that's unnatural or Gregor, but this entire PLACE." He chuckled, "A thriving complex for the dead, filled with vampires, male and female, and ghouls. This place is as dead as the stone it's made out of."

"Wouldn't someone have called the police? Surely someone would have noticed the odd behavior and at least a few of the acts of violence." She had almost said feeding instead of violence, an act of her new nature (well, as new as it could be after a year) that she still couldn't reconcile with herself.

"Look around you. This place was a waste before any of this happened. I doubt the police would have come, let alone anyone call. It was probably inhabited by poor families with nowhere else to go except the streets, by gang members as hideouts, burnt out drug heads, criminals, maybe even killers and rapists. God had already cast his gaze away from here; that's why it was so easy."

"How much…..how much of the complex do you think has been overrun?"

"Most of it, if not all of it. When he began the process, it would've spread like a fire through a dry forest. It would've taken a week, maybe, at the most."

She swallowed, trying to calm herself. She had fought FREAKS before, but this would be her first time against true vampires, as new and technically weak as they may be. "How strong do you think he is? Can you sense him at all?" She couldn't, or at least she couldn't make out any differences from the presences she could sense; everyone presence she could feel felt wrong, but still as weak as the two before them.

"Yes." Her master replied. "He's not weak, but nowhere near my level. He's maybe been a vampire for ninety years, closer to maybe eighty six or eighty seven."

"That old?" Seras responded in surprise. "Then why did he leave only a few weeks ago, and why hadn't anyone noticed his behavior before? Where could he have gone if he didn't go to become a FREAK, like we thought he had?"

"To kill a priest." A voice behind her responded flatly, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and her hand go to her throat reflexively.

To her side, Seras heard her master chuckle and the light sound of scraping metal as she heard him draw one of his guns. "Anderson." Her master responded, and the sound in his voice made her cringe when she heard it. He had been wanting to fight the priest again since the subway tunnel, and she doubted that the two wouldn't soon attack each other again, possibly even here and now when they had the most to lose by alerting the entire compound of their presence.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Alucard began, a taunting tone growing ever stronger as he spoke, "but I'm fairly certain this area falls far outside the Vatican's jurisdiction. You have no place here, priest."

"Aye." Anderson responded roughly, and Seras shuddered as she heard his footsteps growing ever closer, "But this supersedes boundaries, vampire. The one in that apartment complex has been one of the ones responsible for the recent killings of some of our own, and we demand we be the ones to cut him down."

"Your demands mean nothing to me. You come as an avenger of the impersonal except for the fact that they are from your church. Did you know any of them who have died, have any reason other than the commands of your superiors?"

"Some, yes, but one in particular: a priest named Charleston Herringer." His hand curled into a fist as he spoke and he sighed as he began to talk earnestly, seeing it would be one of the few possible chances by which he may be able to get the vampire to allow him this without bringing out Enrico's official written request; he hated having to play politics, especially since the vampire would probably blow that off as well. Hopefully, the vampire still had some sense of honor. "When I was orphaned as a young boy, Herringer and another priest, the one you saw with Father Maxwell at the museum before our run in, Father Renaldo, were the two main influences on my life. Herringer taught me the book, and Renaldo taught me the way by which I serve the Lord that you have seen, vampire. I therefore claim the life of the vampire in there, both in service of the Lord and to avenge the life of the man he most recently took."

The pause before Alucard responded was maybe a few beats, but the lack of a quick response put Seras off guard and uncertain as to what her master would do. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard what her master's response was. "You've stated your case for vengeance well, priest, and I would give it to you." The taunting tone was surprisingly absent now, "But that is not mine to give. My orders are to kill him as well, priest, and I will not disobey my master under any circumstance."

His sigh was heavy as he took out the folded note and threw it to Alucard, the vampire catching it easily. "Written orders from my superiors, vampire. By now, your master will have been contacted about my interference and requested to allow me to work with you. You can wait for contact from her, but I doubt it will matter with the information on your assailants that Maxwell has to offer her." He shuddered in disgust at the thought of what he was about to say, "It looks like our organizations will be allies from now on, at least in this instance."

"Eww…" Seras said slightly, allowing her disgust to show a bit more openly than Andersons. She was quick, though, to hide behind her master after the priest stared hard at her, having caught her remark.

Her master laughed lightly at the notion of working with Iscariot. Smiling at the priest, his trigger finger twitching to keep itself from firing, he stated, "And so it appears you and I won't be dueling any longer."

Anderson smiled back, the glint of bloodlust and madness already evident in his eyes. "I wouldn't count on that, vampire. Hopefully those above me will come back to their senses and remember the pagan scum you are again. And when that happens, vampire, then you and I will fight again."

Alucard snickered and finally put his gun away. "Then I suppose we should get started. The sooner we get this done, the less you and I have to cooperate."

"That's something I can agree with you on." He thought a moment before adding, "You should send the girl back, vampire. She won't be necessary for this."

That remark was enough to make Seras forgot she was frightened of the priest to get truly angry at him. "What the hell is this?" she screamed indignantly. "You're working with us, not our bloody supervisor! You think I'm worthless or a liability for this, is that it? I was with the police before I became what I am now! And more than capable of-"

"Police girl." She stopped her rant to heed whatever her master said. He looked at her sharply before replying, "Do what he says."

Her mind, and mouth, began to go into a whirlwind of aggression, this time not from anger but from emotional pain at being told to leave by her own master. "Master, you can't honestly expect me to…"

"Police girl." He responded sharply, looking straight at her. And then his mouth stopped moving, and she heard him only in her head, "I want you to head to Hellsing as quickly as possible. I don't trust this."

"You think he's lying or tricking us?" she responded telepathically.

"Him? No; his personality is too forthright to truly be capable of deception. It's his superiors I doubt. I want you to check in with Integra and communicate back to me what's happened. If anything happens there while I'm here, you're responsible for getting Integra to safety."

She sighed, knowing that this was, more than likely, her master's way of attempting to soften the blow of being dismissed, even though she couldn't understand what his reasoning could be to agree with the priest. "Yes, master." She responded, and slowly walked away in the shadows, knowing she didn't have to be afraid for being uncovered for what she was.

The priest watched her walk away before responding "She's grown in power over the last year."

"She has." Alucard said, "But even I was unsure that she wouldn't be a liability for what has to happen here."

He narrowed his brow at the vampire's comment. "Your reasoning and mine are different, nosferatu. I didn't ask for her to be sent away because she was a liability, but because she wouldn't be necessary for this with the two of us here."

"And why would that matter to you?" Alucard responded, smirking, "And how is that reasoning different from considering her a liability? If she was unnecessary but here, wouldn't that be a hindrance?"

Anderson sighed; he had no desire to get into an argument with the vampire that he knew was made simply for its amusement. He shuddered at the taint and evil of the place, and asked, "Has everyone here become one?"

"Most likely." Alucard stated simply. "The virgins have been turned to vampires, and the rest ghouls." He stopped for a minute. "And that was why I sent her away."

"That logic makes no sense. She's fought the FREAKS and ghouls before; there shouldn't be much difference between having fought them and such weak vampires."

He shook his head. "No; she's more than powerful enough to destroy most of the beings here, but she's yet to become fully hardened enough to handle what will begin to come out here when we start this. I doubt her…….fortitude when it will come to having to kill the children here, and that could lead to her becoming so uncertain she that she could be overpowered. I don't intend to have someone I went out of the way to save through their new existence out like that."

The priest shuddered; even though they were forced into abominations, he had a hard time consoling himself that the children would have to die as well, even if they were vampires. "_They break in pieces thy people, O Lord, and afflict thine heritage. They slay the widow and the stranger, and murder the fatherless._" He recited softly to himself, his hands already going to his blades. He turned his sights back to the vampire, his urge to fight growing as his hands clasped the hilts of his bayonets. "Shall we begin, vampire?"

Smirking, the vampire responded, "Of course. However, since this is my territory, I claim the right to draw first blood."

Anderson merely shrugged; there would be enough death in the upcoming battle, and who killed first matter little to not at all to him.

Alucard raised his gun towards the teen playing basketball and fired the Jackal, the report resounding like a crash of thunder over the entirety of the compound. The bullet quickly penetrated the boys' head, turning it into a blur of flesh, bone, and gray matter, which splattered on the dimly lit court.

The shot had its intended effect as the lights of the complex began to turn on, and doors began to open simultaneously all over the area, gentle, hungry moans issuing from them. The man who had been reading had immediately get up to shout a (unnecessary) warning, but was quickly pushed back down to the car as two of Anderson's bayonets whistled through the air towards him, one penetrating the head and the other the heart, slaying him instantly.

The two stepped calmly into the dim lights of the lot, surveying and being surveyed by several pairs of eyes, glaring from everywhere and every angle. Most came from the doors, put a few poured out of the cars and from on top of the roofs. Most stopped to merely glare, yet many continued to go on, moaning pitifully in hunger, slaves now only to hunger and denied the sentinance of those who had been sexually pure before the catastrophe that had struck the complex.

And they would all have to be destroyed, men, women, and children. As cruel as it could sound, none could survive so that they could spread what they had. Anderson considered it his duty to God; Alucard, his duty to the humans who had enslaved him. And while the two claimed different sources for their orders, the fervor with which they carried them out was the same.

They smiled, each facing to take a different side of the complex as their own battle zone, bloodlust and the desire for battle filling both of them. The sound of scraping metal issued from both, Anderson drawing his bayonets and reciting scripture quietly, Alucard merely bringing both guns to bare on his targets, saying nothing but waiting in anticipation to fire, but tantalizing his desire by letting them come a little closer before snuffing out their lives, letting him see his work in closer detail.

And though they did not think it at the time (and those who were ghouls thought not at all), those who had lived, died, and lived again within the complex were moving towards their own slaughter, and thus to be freed.

The guns fired and the bayonets whirled, and a bloody mist began to rise that would linger in the air for the rest of the night while the two hunters remained on the grounds.

TO BE CONTINUED…………


End file.
